Shadows
by Fher34
Summary: "He would never say this out loud, but he liked the sound of her voice." It started with a sound & ended with a destiny changed & out of control. He was the prodigy with many silent burdens, & she, the useless heiress nobody wanted. Two silent people united by a simple lullaby. "Because in the end, all was darkness, and everyone became shadows." ItaXHina.
1. 1: Hear Me

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_**SHADOWS**_

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**Part 01**

_Hear Me_

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"_Listen, listen,_

_Listen to each drop of rain (listen, listen),_

_Aaah,_

_Whispering secrets in vain (listen, listen),_

_Aaah,_

_Frantically searching for someone to hear_

_Their story before they hit ground..._

_Please don't let go,_

_Can't we stay for a while?_

_It's just so hard to say goodbye..._

_Listen to the rain._"

_-Listen to the Rain_ by** Evanescence**

**OOOO**

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He would never say this out loud, but he liked the sound of her voice.

In his lifetime, he had never heard anything like it.

The moment he was destined to meet her, a part of him – he would admit this until later, however, – decided, albeit unconsciously, that she was one of a kind, just like him.

Uchiha Itachi was a boy of few words. If he needed to speak, he did. If he needed to add a comment here or there, he did so without qualms because it was expected of him.

The honor of the Uchiha rested on his small, not yet truly adolescent, shoulders. It was what a shinobi expected of a prodigy.

However, silence was something he was familiar with. Silence was welcome; noise was not.

The story between them started simply enough.

In the forest to be precise, one of the few places he could feel free in and roam without intervention, if just for short moments.

He was never a child of liberties and had never demonstrated the stress of being one of the most gifted of the Uchiha. Carrying with the clan's expectations, the burden of killing at such small age, the memories of the Third Shinobi War still fresh in his three-year old self's mind, exhausted him.

If someone noticed, they kept it to themselves. If someone kept track of the drawn lines weariness created on his face, no one ever bothered to mention it.

He was serving only a purpose before everyone's eyes, and that purpose was that of loyal servitude to Konoha and his clan.

And as those someones that saw and noticed, Itachi never voiced anything, either.

No, he remained emotionless, stoic, and blank, drowned in his lapses of infinite silence.

It was the one thing that he rarely asked for, that opportunity of private tranquility, and therefore (since he never requested a single thing to begin with), it was the only thing he was often graced with by his peers and family, with the exception of his brother, Sasuke.

But then again, his ototo was a different case. A very special one, in fact. Sasuke was everything Itachi wished to be. His brother was so innocent, so..._childish_, and he was one of the scarce people Itachi really cared for and listened to, aside from his cousin and best friend, Shisui.

So it came as an odd – if not a bit unsettling – surprise when his skilled ears, highly adapted in recognizing diminutive noises, heard it.

No, not _it_.

_Her_.

It was a female.

Now, for him, there was nothing that fazed him, nothing that could make him bat an eyelash, not someone that caught him off-guard.

He was Uchiha Itachi; those things just didn't happen to him.

But that day, he managed to accomplish all of the above without a second's notice.

The sound of a sobbed lullaby, a crib song, a childishly haunting tune, gently probed at his ears, words whispering for permission to come on in and invade his sense of audio.

It was something new, the experience of hearing someone sing.

He hadn't thought about such a silly thing until the moment he caught wind of her broken soprano crying to the loneliness of the dark forest, filling it with a heavy grief, but it was a startling conclusion.

He realized, then, that his mother, Uchiha Mikoto, had never sung to him as a child, and for some reason, the undeniably fact hit something inside his chest. At first, he didn't recognize the peculiar feeling for what it really was, nor would he for a while, so he tossed it away carelessly, not wanting – or needing – to analyze it.

It was of no importance to him if he heard songs or not; it wasn't in his nature to appreciate noise, or even tolerate it. Besides, he'd grown up too fast to give his mother a chance to lull him to sleep with her clear voice. He was a shinobi, not a kid learning how to play tag.

He had killed, his hands were covered with the blood of his enemies. He was not innocent or ignorant of the way his village operated.

He wasn't Sasuke.

He was Itachi.

He was twelve, and yet, age did nothing to decrease the weight he was given to carry.

At the same time children were graduating from the Academy as fresh Genins in rank, he was escalating his way in the ANBU Department of Konoha, surpassing elite Jonins and hard-working amateur ANBUs with not so much as a scar visible on his skin.

The life of a ninja was difficult. The life of a prodigy with the Sharingan and natural skill was even tougher, but no complaints ever dared to cross his lips.

Maybe that was what made him stay that afternoon in which the birds flew for home and the sun set in the horizon, bringing with its departure the oppressing dusk, with its shadows and darkness only light was capable of dispersing.

Maybe – he would think in later years as he looked back at that date in which his destiny changed, – he was tired of routine. Maybe he wanted to try something different in that life of his that seemed written in stone; unmovable, unchangeable. He was to live to his father's – to his clan's – expectations and pride.

He was to represent the Uchihas, live not for himself, but for his clan and inheritance, not as an individual, but as an enigma of power no one else could match. A warning to everyone outside.

So maybe (he would conclude in his future years), he wanted something for himself for once.

So he stayed to hear her the first time...and came back the day after.

He never left his spot on the tallest tree, not because he feared she would find him, but because he didn't want to see her face.

He knew that if he caught a glimpse of the human music-box, he would be doomed. He appreciated the tunes she sang, as much as he would like to think otherwise, but it was better, for both of them, if their presences and identities were kept in the dark.

So he became her temporary shadow, always there when she was, but never straying away from the forest and loaded trees.

His empty silence was now filled with her voice whenever she came, which he discovered, was often.

It took him two days to analyze and determine her schedule, and when he had time or was free of high-ranked missions, he went to her without her knowledge, never seeing her face, but always hearing her voice.

Months came and went, and his routinized life was as dull as blunt kunai blades, except for his time spent with his foolish ototo and the hours listening to the soft tenor that didn't fit with the gloomy atmosphere of the depths of the abandoned forest.

Itachi knew that things never stayed the same, however. He was aware that nothing was forever, that changes, like the seasons, were bound to come and go.

But, as knowledgeable as he was, he didn't think of change when her voice didn't come.

It was a day like any other, the beginning of summer was nearing, and with it, the hottest days of the year.

As much as he wished to discharge his black shirt (a color that absorbed all wavelengths and heat), and as much as his tongue became parched, thirsting for cool liquid, he stayed, believing her to be late.

So he waited for the little voice of that person to show up and sing to his ears and fill the desolate surroundings.

But she never did.

He waited even though the seconds of the clock ran and time escaped him; he stayed in place until the sunset and twilight appeared; he was filled with a slight anxiety as the moon rose and no sorrowful lullabies came to ease the heavy sensation at the pit of his stomach.

He waited for her voice to reach him, like it always did, but his expectations were fruitless.

She never showed.

For the first time since he could remember, the night-bird's constant lullaby of shattered hopes and building dreams stopped singing.

**OOOO**

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-Next Chapter: Part 02: Watch Me

"_He would never say this out loud, but he liked to observe her..."_

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**A/N:** Honestly speaking, I have no idea if this ItaHina meets the requirements for a dabble...but the chapters won't be as long as the ones in my other stories and though this tale has a small plot, I couldn't get this out of my head while I wrote 'Dear Stranger, Make Me Remember.' Please don't blame me XD. This doesn't mean I'll stop updating Nightmares, DSMMR, or Free Ravens (all SasuHina); it's just that I noticed that there has to be more Hinata FanFictions! Come on, let's support this lovely character, guys!

Anyhow, Follow/Favorite &amp; Review. I'd be forever grateful!

-4.15.14


	2. 2: Watch Me

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_**SHADOWS**_

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**Part 02**

_Watch Me_

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**OOOO**

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He would never say this out loud, but he liked to observe her.

If there was anybody who could properly define the word 'graceful', then Itachi was sure that it was her.

In his mind, there was no doubt.

Her body was small for her age, her white coat engulfed her little torso, and her navy-blue ¾ cut-pants reached down to conceal white-porcelain skin of her ankles, as if to prove the Uchiha right in his opinion.

She was in possession of a small-boned structure and fragile frame, details he had truly noticed after the days grew too hot for her to bear the increasing heat of the summer days and her covering was discharged, folded, and carefully set on the grass below in a neat square.

Clothes (he concluded as he watched her unzip her pale jacket,) were used as shields.

It was a sort of protection she had wrapped around in a weak effort to make herself feel slightly safe.

He had believed as much regarding that factor, but the real question wandering through the head of many would have been: safe from _what_?

Uchiha Itachi wasn't 'many' but it had surprisingly taken him longer than he himself had expected to realize what was going on, although hints to that inquiry had presented themselves the second he'd seen her walk into the clearing one day after mission.

No, not '_walk_'.

The word was wrong. It wasn't an accurate enough description that could have remarked the state in which she had shown.

'_Stumbled_', on the other hand, was a more fitting term.

That day, – he remembered it well, the way he did everything else,– had started with an ANBU call and ended with a successful mission report. Having finished before the time set to officially return, Itachi had stood in the middle of the ANBU headquarters, his dark uniform and light gray vest suspended in his hands as if waiting for something to happen, his dark eyes shuttered from all visible emotion but his mind working.

He had yet to know what made him replace his mask and ANBU gear, exiting in a flash out of Hqs without any word of warning.

It was a feeling, (not logic) that on which he'd acted upon. His feet had, against his will, dragged him to that place, the one with the old, intimidating trees towering above the pathetic-looking grass-blades and in which the clear light of the sun refused to penetrate. It was shadowed, mysterious, and not at all a place for civilians to roam and explore.

Aside from the overly grown vegetation and the common wild animals inhabiting the desolated area, the place was dead in an unwelcome way, lacking a main core of vitality.

There was absolutely nothing to see, no one to find, no reason for him to be there.

The day he had heard her voice for the first time in his life, it had been a simple coincidence. He had just passed through and caught wind of her song.

Right?

That possibility had caused his eyebrows to knit into a deep frown.

He believed in no coincidences.

In his world there was no place for the sort. Behind every occurrence, there was a reason to help push it into motion. Coincidences didn't – _couldn't_ – exist.

But he had been there, and stayed until the tunes of sadness turned dimmer, quieted, and died.

He had stopped himself in certain occasions from going to his place above on the tallest tree, where the shadows coiled and embraced him snugly. It had been weeks since he stopped going, and yet, there was that pull that gave him no option, that drew him near with no apparent excuse.

And once again, he had come back, fulfilled with an empty and unknown purpose.

Having had entered in silent conflict with himself didn't mean that he had lost the ability to register his outer world, though. The hollow sound of deceased twigs on the forest-floor from long ago – (forgotten to rot like all the things that in the past had conceived life,) – snapping in two and coming apart under a human pressure had failed startle him. Everything was fated to always fail, yes, because he had been and continued to be painfully aware, forever awake to what went on.

Catching him off-guard was a myth, unreal and a fantasy many desired.

So he had watched on, his extensively developed Sharingan eyes an intense and eerie ruby hue shining in the gloominess of the solitary atmosphere. In his chest, his heart had pumped blood at a faster pace without his permission, but that had mattered little next to nothing to him at that moment.

A part of him – the sanest one, he would come to find in the oncoming years – had given strict demands for him to turn away, to not look.

_It's __dangerous__, _his own calm, monotone, voice had warned him, but he had turn a deaf ear to it as it it hadn't spoke at all. As a shinobi, he understood that following logic was what saved many lives, but that time, he had paid no heed to it, so he had stood still, and watched quietly.

Her feet had dragged behind her as if they weighted more than they should, her shoulders hunched inwardly, one of her hands pressed to the side of her ribs, below her chest, in a failed try to avoid pain.

She had made a pitiful sight to behold, tiny, sad, and utterly _broken_.

She had been by all means normally okay, if exhausted-looking, but there was something so undeniably dead about her that caused Itachi think otherwise.

It might have been the way her feet moved on in front of the other in a mechanical pattern that wished to forge a uni-complex human action, or the way her head hung low, short indigo strands disheveled and sticking to her pale skin with the help of dripping sweat.

All of the above had fled out of his thoughts when she raised her eyes.

Dead.

They had been dead.

There had been no light in them, no feeling, not a sign that could have helped to catalog those blank white eyes as living things.

That had surprised him more than the fact that she was a Hyuuga. The notion had barely crossed his mind as he, with his own eyes, watched, his legendary blood-limit copying, learning, scrutinizing, and memorizing her form stand in front of the tree trunk she always sat to sing on.

She had stared at it as if she had never seen it before in her existence, but after a moment of staying still, she had taken a seat, the way it was custom.

Itachi had observed all of those details with a feeling of surprise, not believing how such a small child could ever look like that.

He had seen his share of misfortunes regarding orphans and survivors of disasters and yet, none of them had impacted him as strongly as she did.

That day, she had wore not her usual clothes, but a black, formal yukata that fell to her mid-calf with long sleeves.

The girl had reached out and untied the cloth around her waist, and had it been anyone else (male, that is,) he would have had looked away instantly . But Itachi hadn't.

His Sharingan had dimmed, black eyes slowly returning, and gazed down at the small creature below.

Underneath her yukata, a mesh, training shirt had rested. Having peeled up it a fraction, Itachi had seen what had caused her pain.

A broken rib from her left side, swollen and purple-shaded, pushed up to the surface, wanting to get pass delicate, ivory skin.

His eyes had widened a fraction as he took in the bone raised in an abnormal direction.

Dainty fingers had grazed at it, and a whimper had followed soon afterwards as the bearer of the injury received excruciating waves of pain courtesy of her eight-year-old brain.

That should have been his first clue that something was very out of place, and it was, but he had been too busy trying to design a scheme to take care of the broken bone without her finding out about him, and had send his observations to the back of his mind, if just for a while.

But to his surprise, she had opened her mouth, and it hadn't been to scream.

"_A mourning spirit in the field where dead roams_

_Looking at the retreating, traitorous sun._

_With it the light has gone._

_The nightingale in the distance cried in pain,_

_A human arrow had struck its head._

_Memories of tomorrow and yesterday_

_Here to remember and come again._

_No matter where the sun goes_

_There will be darkness to rule in its place._

_The moon is quiet, dark as the sky_

_Silent in its mourning for the spirit that withers away_

_Looking at the retreating, traitorous sun_

_From its place in the blackness where light doesn't go._"

His eyes had closed when she began to sing, and as she did, he had wondered if his face looked like hers even when he hid away from the world the way he did.

Had he always looked so unfeeling and dead?

He hadn't been sure, and still wasn't.

The following morning, one Hyuuga Hinata had found herself looking up at the bloomed trees of the Hyuuga Garden and sat up quickly with alarm.

Had she fallen asleep the day before? If so, when? How had she gotten back to the Compound?

Then she had gasped, remembering her broken rib. In an unconscious motion, her hand had fled to her side, only to feel bandages wrapped around.

There was pain, but now it was dulled, subdued somewhat, her yukata back in place.

Pale eyes had looked on, unsure on how to proceed.

Then she had shed a single tear with mixed feelings of gratitude and confusion, but nonetheless, happy for the act of kindness that she had been gifted with. After all, it wasn't often that she received one.

"A-arigato," she had whispered softly and gotten up, not ready to go back to the house that haunted her daydreams of freedom and happiness but having no choice.

From afar a pair of dark eyes had watched her progress.

A blink later, they had disappeared.

**O**

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It hadn't been in his plans to encounter her again after that accident, the one that had placed him back in deafening and lonely silence, but here he was and she...

She was here too.

He had discovered that she trained by herself.

And she never stopped. There was a driving force that made her give it her all, and her eyes, those pale orbs that spoke strongly of her Hyuuga heritage, gave him the appearance of a glass figurine that wasn't as fragile as she looked.

Her injury had healed after a few weeks, but that had done little to deter her in practicing.

Now, there was nothing that could obstruct her concentration as she practiced different sets of katas, each graceful movement effectuated with the fluidity and flexibility that they seemed to require.

They were graceful sets of dances she moved to, each to its own rhythm and tempo, but always done with precision and thoughtfulness.

It was..._entertaining_ to see her perform.

It was ironic, the fact that he had wanted to _not_ see her face in the first place.

In his defense, security was all.

Not knowing how she looked, he had believed as he heard her sing those melancholic tunes that defined her, would be in the best of benefits.

She couldn't catch a glimpse of him, and to ensure that his plan didn't backfire, he chose not to see her as well. It was only fair, and in his mind, fairness (a concept that wasn't exactly popular in the Shinobi World,) had sounded good enough at the time.

She lived in her own existence, rotated around the axis of her world, the same way he did, the same way everyone else followed. Her unawareness of his presence was a relief, something less to stress about...

And there was more than one issue to be wary of. His clan was getting edgy, its demeanor reproachful towards the Sandaime and all of Konoha. It wasn't too obvious, but it was hard to ignore when one noticed _everything_.

It had started to make him feel anxious.

His eyes, which had glazed in thought, focused on her again and he realized as she put her coat back on, that it was almost time for her to go and for him to return home for dinner and teach his ototo weaponry after that. Foolish little Sasuke needed to practice archery, the older Uchiha boy thought to himself with amusement, the corner of his mouth curling upward into a soft smile, one that he reserved only for his dark-haired younger brother.

But before departing, there was a ritual she never failed to check off her list.

Folding her legs and throwing her head back, the little girl opened her mouth at the same exact moment that Itachi closed his eyes.

It was time for her to sing him a lullaby.

**O**

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Despite the aura of tranquility and stillness, Itachi had learned (and not only known) that things always tended to never stay in that state. He had been taught well by the last experience, so when he found himself practicing his already perfect kunai throwing, he heard it, and though it alerted him, it didn't surprise him. Not this time.

Feet running, a branch snapping with a cry, the murmur of insects in the distance.

His head swirled to the direction of the source, and not giving it a second thought of consideration, he moved.

He would have recognized those particular sounds everywhere, so he took precautions, and with light-fast hand-signs, performed genjutsu on himself.

The casted illusion brought to life a taller male hovering over five feet ten with long chestnut hair that reached his shoulder-blades, an ANBU equipped gear his vestment, and the Uchiha crest and dark shinobi pants he had dressed himself with that same morning hidden under a coat of his chakra.

His identity protected, he hurried, albeit not as fast as he'd wished lest he aroused suspicion, after the little Hyuuga girl that was for sure making her way to their forest.

It didn't take long to find her, as he had chosen his training ground earlier today close to his current position, and when he did, he saw her.

She was panting hard, the air nonexistent to her respiration system as she allowed a river of blood to slip through her fingers like water, warming them with its dispersing heat, the kunai within the grip of her other hand falling to the ground with a hollow thud.

Itachi stopped in his tracks, his feet rooted to the soil.

He couldn't honestly say whether or not it was shock that he felt; it was impossible for him to do so when he had never experienced said emotion, but it was the closest thing to it that he had ever known of.

His brain quickly analyzed the situation while simultaneously debating if he should step into the scene and ask instead of deduct.

Before he could decide on a decision, however, she spoke.

"I-I can see you."

Itachi felt his breath get stuck in his throat.

Her words carried to him in a soft wave, as if trying not to startle him. He almost scoffed to himself at her precarious ways only to be reminded that she had indeed caught him out of his element.

_Impossible_.

Raising weary transparent amethyst eyes, he saw it.

Her Byakugan activated, her veins pulsing weakly with chakra, her iris a metallic shade of mercury and her pupil undeniably noticeable.

That explained why she could see him, though he was confident in his abilities and although the girl time to time chose to surprise him, he knew she was no match for him. No one truly ever was. There was no way she could see through his genjutsu, Byakugan or no Byakugan.

"What did you do?" It was said emotionless, but there was a irrefutable demand that gave her no option in the matter of not answering.

The girl flinched, his monotone both scaring and surprising her. She honestly hadn't expected him to talk.

"I asked you a question. What did you do?" he repeated himself.

He watched as she swallowed hard and bowed her head, her Byakugan de-activating. "T-the blood...T-the pathways were blocked. I, I had to do something for them to open – "

"And make way for your circulation to pass through," Itachi finished for her as he assessed the damage. "You cut through the skin and muscle to channel the overflow."

The girl continued to pant, sweat beading her forehead, her skin a sickly white, her lids heavy above her large eyes. "Y-yes..."

His eyes narrowed. He wasn't ignorant of the Hyuuga's fighting style, and he had to wonder if she had received this second injury from a fighting session.

Who was this girl? She was obviously a Hyuuga, but…

He stole a quick glance at her forehead, her bangs parted apart giving him a clear view, and couldn't find the Curse Mark the Branch family sported.

She was from the Main House.

"Anbu-san."

Itachi didn't look at her but he did tilt his head to let her know he was listening, still deep in thought.

"D-did... Did my father send you for me?"

There was a sliver of hope in her voice, as if she wished for his answer to be yes, though her eyes remained on the blood pooling on her lap, damping her clothes, staining her white coat, a contrast so sharp it was fascinating.

Her father...Had he done this to her? Had he broken her rib just a few weeks ago as well?

Itachi wished he could say that no, no parent could hurt his offspring that much, but just thinking of Fugaku, he knew better.

"No."

He was blunt in all of his answer to everyone but his little brother, unfeeling, and unsympathetic. This was no exception.

The girl's face fell but she attempted to smile a small, untrue turn of pink lips. "O-oh. I see."

"Give me your hand."

The small female snapped her head up to look at him straight on with pure surprise.

Itachi stopped himself from voicing his order again and simply took her limp arm with his hand, firmly, yet gently enough not to disrupt the wound.

The indigo-haired girl gasped as she felt warm and callused fingers on her but Itachi ignored the reaction, opting for taking the small healing supplies all ANBU agents were forced to carry within their possession at all times.

"Would you have preferred if he had." It failed to announced her father by name or title, but he was sure she understood. It wasn't a question. Not really. After all, her predicaments were none of his business. Everyone faced their own personal conflicts. This girl couldn't be any different.

His rhetorical question didn't require an answer, but this Hyuuga seemed to stop and think about it, as if her reply mattered too much to be a basic response.

Quietly, slowly and carefully, she finally spoke, "I don't know."

The way her lips turned down into a discontented frown and dipped indigo brows furrowed told him that the answer displeased her.

"Hm." Taking hold of her wrist, he turned it around and dabbed at the scarlet liquid running down its length with gauze and antibacterial salve.

"I-I made sure..." she sucked in a breath before exhaling sharply. "I-I made sure not to cut any arteries."

Itachi did not respond as he dressed her wound, unmindful of the blood dripping on his clothes. His Clan had always wore dark colors, and he was no different. Her red blood was not going to stain them.

Once done, he sat back on his heels, putting away all of his medical supplies.

"T-thank you."

He paused for a moment, his fingers hesitating on his weapons pouch, before giving a subtle nod at the barely-heard words of gratitude.

And that evening, as the moon appeared and the stars rose, she stayed, and so did he.

That night, there was no lullabies; only shared silence.

**OOOO**

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A/N: Screw it. This ain't no dabble no more. This ItaHina gonna be a full-length story :D The 6 chapters I had planned have now become 10...Lol. Don't ask me how it happened, it just did. How this chapter surpassed to 3k is a mystery also.

Thank-yous!: **thinks-too-hard, manga-addict-95, L.L, Lheii78, NaviTheGoddess, Guest #1 **&amp;** #2, MinaSmile209, SabakunoAnjel, Beth Sanchez, Miih-chan, &amp; Kibachow**!

I'm undeserving but thanks a bunch! C:

-_Nightmares_ will be updated soon. Chapter 12 is 4K words presently. _DSMMR_ &amp; _Free Ravens_ are at work too.

-True, I also believe that Itachi deserves a freakishly nice and gentle girl. And whom better than our lovely Hyuuga heiress?

-Thank you all again so much for your positive reviews. I'm glad you thought it was beautiful.

-4.28.14.


	3. 3: Trust Me

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_**SHADOWS**_

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**Part 03**

_Trust Me_

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**OOOO**

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She would never tell anyone, but she began to trust him.

Trust was not generally given to anyone, not even her relatives, because she knew, despite her tender age, that danger could attack from many sides, and that presenting her trust to anyone could very well led her to an early grave.

Death wasn't something she wanted to experience. Not yet. She had a long list of things she wished to do...Things that couldn't be done while sleeping for eternity six feet underground.

Although her life was not as happy as it could be, – and she was aware that there was more gray and black than an overall color white, – she had a dust of hope dwelling in her mind, waiting, accumulating, and staying small but bright inside of her, providing a diminutive light that kept her safe in the cold, and unforgivable nights that haunted her when the sun hid behind the horizon and the moon rose high in the sky.

It was a start. That small speckle of hope was her beginning.

A beginning that comforted her in her time alone like the quiet but kind ANBU did.

He was a shadow, she came to know. A shadow that flickered when she needed him the most, a form of existence that seemed to be everywhere she went, a guardian that maintained that heavy feeling of loneliness at bay.

His mere presence was...

...fulfilling.

He brought her instant relief, a cure to the predatory loneliness that wanted to eat away at her heart like a starving animal at every second of the day.

She came to appreciate his calm silence when he hovered above the trees, staying put with a skilled amount of chakra, a technique that she had started to practice not too long ago. In the Ninja Academy, the exercise had yet to start, but in her Clan, it was something she had to master in a week.

Her Father believed it to be a simple task that even someone like her could complete.

So she did, but not without consequences.

It had left her without energy; she had been physically drained, and it wasn't until she had done well enough before her Father's eyes that she was allowed to take a break.

She had almost passed out with exhaustion by then.

But little Hinata, somehow, had managed to get up, walk out of the compound, and get herself lost in the woods.

They offered a safe heaven in there, one that could cause her no harm in any way.

No harsh looks, no curt words, no unfeeling warmth. Nothing could touch her in her adopted home.

Because...the forest was _home_. The forest had claimed her as one of its many living creatures taking refuge in its dark depths. The forest had life of its own and had welcomed her with open and concealing arms. The forest was gentle with her, forgiving, benevolent; the Hyuuga compound was not.

No one outside of her family would understand why she'd prefer to stay in an uncivilized environment full of dirt and animals when she had all of the luxuries life as a Hyuuga usually gifted her with, but that was fine with her; they didn't need to understand. It wasn't necessary.

Keeping them in the dark and away from her reasoning made her feel slightly content. Mainly because no one would dare and venture into the trees that tended to resemble wooden giants instead of plants, and that could only decrease their already indifferent interest.

If they were kept away, maybe they wouldn't hurt her as much. Maybe, they would get tired and bored of trying to analyze her way of thinking, and they would leave her alone with her secrets.

No one would have ever thought that the petite Hyuuga girl with eyes of the pearls found at sea and midnight tinted hair would withhold secrets. They were blind and unseeing; their Byakugan didn't stretch that far. So much for the Clan's insight, because she _did_ hide untold truths.

And ANBU-kun was one of them, one that she wouldn't tell about for years to come.

She liked to sit by her tree trunk, and lie flat on her back, watching the canopy of leaves above her weave and bend at the wind's mercy in hot summer days in which training became a daily affair. It was surprisingly addictive to see, breathe, and feel the soft grass blades tickle her skin through her clothes after workouts.

But it was more interesting to see him hang upside down, his shoulder-length brown chestnut hair pointing down as he, in return to her actions, meditated in that strange pose on the highest tree.

She had learned not to interrupted him, mostly due to her own politeness. However, she liked the shared silence.

To her, the silence spoke muted words of comfort.

It made her think, that maybe he was lonely too, and that he needed her in the same way she needed him. He never mentioned anybody, not his family, or his friends, or his teammates, not that she had expected him to. He was of a high elite rank, so she supposed he couldn't divulge any sort of carefree words around.

She understood.

It wasn't until the summer began to wane and September started to arrive, that she realized something was off.

Even to her novice senses, something was amiss.

Her first clue was ANBU-kun's disappearing. He used to always be there, in their place, waiting for her to come. But in mid-September, the routine stopped abruptly.

There was no warning, no essential details, nothing that could help her puzzle out how this had come to be.

One day, he was there, and the next, he was gone.

She tried not to worry. He was a shinobi; he had missions to complete, he was busy. He had no time to stick around someone as unworthy as her.

The thought had made her stomach churn with uneasiness.

But that diminutive piece of dust known as hope didn't falter too much. It didn't extinguish. It didn't die.

It stayed alive.

So she attended to the forest, to her home, and waited.

And waited.

And waited for him to come back.

By the start of November, he did, but with a request that left her rooted to the floor in utter bafflement.

"Sing."

She'd stared.

_"Sing to me_," he had repeated, his masked face as mysterious as ever, his deep, smooth voice somehow sounding grievous to her ears.

It had taken her a blink to regain her composure, and when she did, she couldn't help the questioning rise of her brows.

He didn't notice, because he was staring at some point far in the distance, lost in his own silent musings.

Without any pushing, Hinata sat, and began.

It had made her uncomfortable, singing like this. She had never shared any of her songs with anybody. They were her mother's, and some others were her own. They hadn't been created to toss around, but...as time went on, and the shinobi at her side relaxed, she tossed away her shyness, and loosed her muscles.

Unbeknown to her, Itachi had heard her sing the same lullabies since the dawn of their meetings. He knew them; there was nothing she could hide from him.

He knew when it was time for a hush, when it was time for crescendos, when times of silence were necessary, and when a piece reached its finale.

He knew every single part, but the songs never stopped losing their meaning.

It was soothing. _She_ was soothing.

And...he wanted to be soothed.

**O**

_**.**_

She didn't understand.

Pale eyes filled with worry, fear, and disappointment wandered around her surroundings in muted confusion.

_Again_.

There was this feeling leaving her breathless trapped in her chest. It squeezed the life right out of her, leaving her with no option but to stay still. It hurt to move.

The idea of moving sounded like suicide right now and to make matters worse, ANBU-kun was late.

_Again_.

She knew, she understood, that he was probably busy. But it was getting more and more usual as autumn approached.

And to add to her agitation, their last conversation had left her disturbed.

"_If you were to die, would you be selfish?"_

She had started, because he wasn't one for chatter. ANBU-kun and her were mostly associated with silence and not words, so when he spoke, it caught her by surprise, but she paid attention.

She'd had the feeling it was important.

"S-selfish?" she'd echoed. True, she didn't comprehend why he was inquiring about that, but she gave it thought, and her brows had furrowed deeply as she meditated on the matter.

"Yes."

Hinata's eyes closed, and she laid on her back, her favorite position, and basked in his voice. His voice was surprisingly...pretty.

"Would you put your own desires if you were to die?"

"I-I think," she'd begun slowly, choosing her wording with the utmost care, "that there's people, people out there in the world, that...that deserve to be selfish." Her mind had instantly channeled her cousin Neji. He deserved to be selfish, to try and get some sort of recompense for being sealed, for being born in the House of the Cadet Branch.

And she, she deserved his harsh looks, his cold personality, his hatred.

(Or so she believed.)

"Why do you think that?" That blank mask of porcelain had slightly angled her way.

"I think – I think that everyone is selfish, at a point. It's human nature, but there is some that truly deserve to be selfish b-because they have lost something already. I-I believe that these people have been selfless for too long." She had chewed her lower lip. "M-maybe, it's time for them...to have something for themselves."

He had been quiet after that, and then, he had left when twilight covered the land, but not before telling her to be on her way too.

Their short exchange had worried her and kept her awake hours long after bedtime. The next day, he hadn't shown. Nor the one after that.

That only made her reluctant in leaving her post. What if he came back, and she wasn't there to greet him?

No one really missed her in the Hyuuga house, so she stayed put, and eventually, fell asleep, completely ignorant that as she dreamed, a massacre was taking place in the Uchiha Compound in the outside walls of Konoha.

It hadn't been in her plans to fall victim to slumber, but she did, and once she realized what had occurred, she gasped.

Night had befall Konoha, and the forest, once friendly and safe, looked ready to devour anyone who came a step too close.

The chirps of nocturnal animals in the bushes and all around was deafening, and she was beginning to get up and go home as she made a good job of focusing in something other than the darkness lurking when the sound of a branch snapping under weight caused her to muffle a scream.

With wide eyes, she watched a figure shake and she expected it to get up and attack her. Her mind was too frightened to think rationally, but it was okay. The figure wasn't aware of her yet.

It stayed there, quivering as if with cold, and murmuring something, the pants that exited its mouth loud and ragged.

Hinata's shoulders hunched, and her fist covered her trembling lips as she tried to make herself nonexistent to avoid the figure's attention.

"...ve me," she heard it say and froze on her tracks.

Huh? What...what was he saying?

"Sa... me," it repeated as Hinata struggled to listen to him (because it was obviously a male) correctly.

And then she did with a shiver, and the agony, and the sorrow, and the pain fell upon her fragile shoulders like a physical force, heavy and suffocating and gluing her even more to the forest ground that had suddenly lost all of its charm.

"Save me," he gasped painfully. "S-somebody, – anyone, _save me_."

**OOOO**

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_**Next Chapter:**_ **Part 04:** _Discover Me_

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**A/N:If you don't think Itachi suffered at least from shock after the Massacre, then I don't know what to tell you.**

Sorry for taking so long! I've been babysitting since the beginning of summer.

Hope you liked the chapter.

Next Updated story: **Nightmares**, _**Chapter 14**_: _Heaven_. Currently on the 4k word count.

Thank **you** so very much: **eurraelizalde1**, **anlmoon**, **aurora0914**, **Pandora** **Lilith** ( :'c u so awesome, girl), **xHinaLovex**, **thinks-too-hard,** **Oojami** **Tsubasawa**, **Beth Sanchez**,** Puppet Prince**, **MinaSmile209**, **Aguna**, **manga-addict-95**, **Yazie567**, &amp; **Kibachow**. You guys are perfect! I'm very grateful you're making my 1st ItaHina successful.

-7.23.14.


	4. 4: Discover Me

_**SHADOWS**_

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**Part 04**

_Discover Me_

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**OOOO**

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He would never utter it out loud, but a part of him wished for her to discover him.

To find who he was, to unveil his deepest secrets, to help him dissipate the burdens that asphyxiated him of air so very cruelly he could hardly stand it.

It was a wish, a foreign desire born from unknown means and conceived at an unknown time.

...It was a wish he wanted but couldn't succumb to.

He knew this too, but somehow, he had ended up here, in the forest, surrounded by familiar trees, (tall witnesses of his and her many encounters through a year of their lives,) seeking her out.

The blanket of darkness had yet to ascend and disappear under the light of dawn, but already, he had blindly made his way to this part of the woods, – (where they had shared silence, words, and simple company,) –hoping in a place deep in his heart for her to be illogically there, present, waiting for him, for a return he himself never thought would actually occur.

Heh. Selfish.

Yes, he was being selfish, selfish for the second time in his life, the first incited also because of her and for the mere satisfaction of listening to her grievous lullabies that tended to pierce his heart in manner never expected.

Again, that girl was making him want to reach for selfish desires that weren't supposed to even exist.

Selfish.

It was a very ugly word with a very complex meaning.

Whether socially and morally incorrect, he found that he lacked the ability to properly care about such things.

Uchiha Itachi didn't care anymore, not here..._not now_, not at all.

This was his last chance to see her round face, observe her owl-like eyes, hear her soft and crystalline voice ring uniquely in his ears.

One last and hopeless chance...a chance an individual covered in dark blood like him had no right in having.

"Save...me..."

The sane part of his brain – or what was left of it, – was informing him, screaming at him, that his desperate crave was pointless, meaningless, a utterly desperate and unreachable dream.

The little Hyuuga girl wouldn't be there; she couldn't be. Not at this hour, not in this night, a night that would be forever remembered in history as the Uchiha Massacre for everybody living in the Village Hidden in the Leaf and the Shinobi world.

Although the innocent ivory eyes of hers had taken over a portion of his thoughts, the trauma of killing the Uchiha clan bore heavily on his shoulders.

And it _hurt_.

His chest was being tore apart by invisible claws that caused him unbelievable torment and brewed him a personal hell in which the fires burned so hot the atmosphere felt unimaginably icy.

Was this the beginning of his punishment? If so, Itachi deigned it too lenient, despite the madness it presented him.

He deserved to live in the blackest and most horrifying layer of hell ever created and be enchained by the abyss.

He deserved to be castigated for what he'd just done and nothing would ever make up for that.

His Clan...his Mother...his Father...

_Sasuke_.

Itachi's eyes shut tightly in pain, the accumulated tears in him spilling down his ashen cheeks.

Hadn't he lost the will to speak properly, Itachi would have gone directly to the Hyuuga compound and ordered (_begged_) the little Hyuuga girl to shatter him, to break him completely, to crush his bones, to stop his beating heart with a single soft strike of her petite palm...to get rid of this crushing pain for him.

_To save him from the haunting phantoms that were his committed crimes._

...it was such a laughable concept.

No one could save him. Not anymore.

And...

His teeth bit hard on his bottom lip.

...he was unworthy of salvation.

"..ve me..."

It was too late for that sort of redemption, and fate, however unpredictable, was nothing short of a harsh judge, Itachi knew this.

Fate would not present him with peace, would never bring him contentment again.

Fate was indeed very cruel.

The older Uchiha brother distantly thought that things could have turned worse.

What if he had been forced to kill Sasuke too? What then?

The pressure of his teeth finally broke through the tender skin of his lips in a swift and slicing motion. Blood did not take long to drip down his chin.

He wouldn't have done it, murdered Sasuke. He wouldn't have...not for the Village Hidden in the Leaves, not for anything or anyone else.

Itachi loved his little brother above the world's possessions and riches and all of the glory to have ever come to be comprehended by shinobi and men.

His throat was invaded with a bitter and coppery flavor as hot blood flowed into his mouth.

Blood. More blood, this time finally his.

There was so much Uchiha blood everywhere already, running through the streets, raining on the grass-blades of the yards, tainting the water red and pink in the nearby ponds.

He was bathed with dark crimson, his clothes wet and heavy; he was covered with his kin's vital substance.

It made him _sick_.

"Save me," he gasped painfully, his words belying his thoughts of no deliverance. "S-somebody, – _save me_."

The taste of metal overtook every one of his senses, clouding his vision so intensely that the form of the little Hyuuga girl in front of him (he'd disregarded her until now) blurred to the point in which she became nothing but a dark figure with no distinctive shape.

_Wait...Hyuuga?_

Itachi's weighted footsteps halted suddenly.

Even among his despondent circumstances, he knew who she was, he recognized her small body and the way her moonstone-like eyes shone in the surrounding black canvas of the night; they were twin beacons of light and radiance illuminating his dark and sinful world.

Slowly but surely, his feet set in motion once again, his eyes sorely on hers, his mouth parted slightly for very needed gulps of air.

He was like a moth attracted by the gentle, warm flames of her being, the taste of her white innocence (so pure, so strong, so yearned), and the opportunity of her soothing presence.

Finding her there –seemingly waiting for him at that hour of darkness and in their familiar spot,– was shocking, like a slap of winter wind across his mask-less face, fascinating like the galaxies spreading over the heavens, and strongly gratifying like a glass of water in the middle of the desert.

The once crushing burden of the world lightened – if just a little – with her in front of him.

Meanwhile, wide opal eyes hinted with apprehension regarded him in muted and still silence. Though her face displayed her fear at the unknown character and her brain demanded to put space between the freshly arrived individual and her, her feet remained stuck to the ground, the loud orders in her mind disobeyed as she returned his fixed gaze.

Her training came to mind, long hours of painful and agonizing practice, and her hands raised in front of her. Before she could perform the set of hand signs for the Byakugan, the stranger before her crumbled – because there was no other word to describe how he descended – to the forest-floor, making her hesitate.

Her eyes traveled to the place onto which he now occupied, not knowing what to say, or what to do.

Running was definitely an option, but she wasn't sure that means of action would work. He could easily trap her if she tried to get away, but she was fast and small, not an easy target to grasp. The way he moved, exhausted and sluggish, hinted at a good chance of escaping, too.

Staying put and finding whether or not he would harm her was another strategy, albeit one she did not like and most likely could not afford.

In the end, the second of her alternatives chose itself.

A small noise escaped Hinata's lips when the clouds in the sky parted and silvery moonlight finally showered his trembling form.

The teenager boy with hair as dark as a raven, skin pale as white clay, and clad in the uniform all ANBU wore, raised his head, and faced her. A porcelain mask with an undistinguished design hung from his neck to his chest, forlornly unused, the slits for the eyes dark and mysterious, almost predatory in their deep vacancy.

Emptiness and death was all she could read in that face marred with lines that should have never belonged on a person so young, and those two things, both of which were sadly not unfamiliar, had never scared her as much as they did that night or filled her with such intense sadness.

"...Hyuuga."

Whether the voicing of her surname resounding quietly through the woods or the instantly recognized hoarse voice that spoke it made her gasp was unclear.

"ANBU-ku –" she stopped herself, her arm outstretched as if to reach him.

In that moment, the world as she knew it ceased to make sense and took a turn she never pre-saw. Her eyes opened gradually to their fullest, her heart beat faster inside her ribs, her breath got snared somewhere in her lungs, and her brain processed her situation.

The boy before her...couldn't possibly be ANBU-kun, could it? Though they shared the same distinctive voice, the height, body build, and hair color did not match.

His face and factions touched Hinata's memories, but she failed to pinpoint his name.

However, she was sure she had encountered him once with her classmate Sasuke-san after school. The event had been long ago, but parts of her memory still recalled it as if it'd been last week, maybe because she'd never seen Sasuke look so pleased until this older boy arrived. Maybe that was what made it so memorable, or the fact that she wished that Hanabi would look at her like that again, the way Sasuke looked at that admirable figure.

For a reason Hinata couldn't understand, her adorable baby sister had stopped the childish antic of dragging her to the her room to play.

Hanabi was becoming cold, and Hinata dreaded that she would become a stoic member of the Main House of the Hyuuga soon.

Hinata's reaching arm paused in coming closer. "A-Are you really...?" _Him_.

Doubt and hope battled one another for dominance. Dread joined the fray and her arm went lax.

Recognizing her emotions in the way she held herself, he nodded slowly at her trailed-off question, not trusting his vocal cords to add in reassurance, 'It is I.'

As if the single motion had granted her some unofficial permission, Hinata ventured closer. "I-I'm glad," she whispered. "You never showed up anymore and I-I thought you- I thought you were...g-gone."

_I thought you were dead._

Tears she wished had not made an appearance rolled down her round cheeks. "I-I was so worried," she confessed so softly it was hard to say if he heard her, her hands tightening into fists to suppress the urge of embracing him.

Embarrassed at her display of weakness (her Father would have surely scolded her), she wiped her face as best as she could before looking at him again.

Now...those dark eyes of the older boy in front of her stared with unveiled relief (at seeing her?) and something else she could not name.

No one had ever looked at her in such a way, and for a moment, Hinata was spellbound by that consuming gaze, her surroundings vanishing one by one until there was nothing but his own two pools of charcoal left.

The darkness of the pre-dawn failed to dull her light eyes. Instead of becoming dim in the blackness, they continue to glimmer like two full moons in a December solstice, beckoning anyone who dared to approach with a gentle, if hypnotic, pull.

Hinata might have continued to correspond his scrutiny save for the blood dripping from his lips that startled her.

Without thinking and leaving it to mere instinct, she touched his chin.

"Y-you are bleeding –"

The male's breath hitched. "Don't –"

But it was too late; Hinata had by then already took hold of him. Pulling away from her in his haste to avoid her resulted into a disastrous idea that caused the small Hinata to stumble and fall on his chest and hang on to his shirt sleeves...sleeves that were soaked in Uchiha blood.

"Oh –! I'm sorry, ANBU-kun," she began. "D-did I hurt you?" Here, she halted, feeling the odd sensation of wetness on her hands, dripping from her fingers, and running down the side of her face, all of which areas that had come into contact with him.

_Eh_?

Her young mind had to take a moment to realize what it was.

Was this...?

"_B-blood_."

With a sense of urgent panic, she glanced him over, checking for any injuries not covered by his clothes, because wounds had to be the source of the substance that now stained her ivory flesh.

Witnessing her alarm, he spoke. "It is not mine."

His tone would have been completely neutral if not for the worry she expressed. Instead, he sounded consoling and calm, things he did not feel at the moment and knew beforehand he would never feel again.

He was unworthy of such sentiments. Nonetheless, he found himself secretly wanting her to fuss over him, to bring him solace and care, if for the last time.

"ANBU-kun...what happened?" Despite knowing that he bore no physical damage, there had to be an explication for his state. And before...before, when she first encountered him on his way towards her, he'd be murmuring, calling, _pleading_ for salvation.

Her uneasiness increased. There was something very wrong, something he knew but she didn't.

His eyes, which had held her to him since his arrival, were heavy with untold sorrow, miserable in every aspect of the word. She couldn't see clearly (what with the absence of light), otherwise she would have perceived the redness of his whites and the puffiness of his lids.

Her inquiry spiked the gloomy atmosphere, and with a heart that weighed more than he could possibly imagine, he shook his head in response.

Hinata quickly understood that whatever had transpired outside of her knowledge was not up for discussion. Her lips turned down in a frown, although one of concern for him.

"Would you..."

She looked at him cautiously.

"Would you sign, for me?"

Her mouth parted in slight surprise, only to close in a soft smile at the usual request. "Mhm."

The boy closed his eyes and laid down properly on his side, facing away from her and staring at the darkness that spread endlessly beyond.

"Do you have anything in mind, ANBU-kun?" she questioned quietly.

Silence for a moment. Then, "Lullabies."

It was always lullabies, she knew. Asking had been just for mere politeness and in case...in case he felt so dejected he wished for something new.

Cleaning her throat softly, Hinata sat a pair of feet away from him and looked at the full moon thoughtfully in the otherwise starless sky and then back at him.

"_Cherry blossoms gracefully bloom o'er the fields that lie,_

_High up is the castle wall, where have warriors gone?_

_Where is the moonlight that brightly shone up high,_

_Shone upon the warriors who drained the glasses dry?_

_White frost o'er the autumn camps freezing the whole night,_

_Flocks of wild geese cry and pass just below the moon._

_Where is the moonlight that might have shone so bright,_

_Shone upon the warriors' swords gleaming through the night?_

_Oh, the moon is rising high in the depths of night,_

_Silent is the ruined site lying on the ground,_

_Ivies creep o'er the gate in the cold moonlight,_

_Rustling are the pine trees through the windy night._"

As her vision focused, she caught the shaking of his shoulders.

"_To rise and fall is people's fate, the moon shines so bright,_

_Looking down upon the world lying far below,_

_How sublime the moonlight o'er the ruined site,_

_How I love the moon that shines in the depths of night!_"

As she finished with the last note, she closed the distance between them and settled her hands on his head, her fingers delicately pressing against his hair, her gaze deserting him for the sole purpose of not making him feel watched and giving him as much privacy as she could.

"Ne, ANBU-kun..." she whispered very softly. "You can cry. I-I won't tell anyone."

Itachi's expression of disbelief and surprise were not seen by her.

_You can cry_.

But could he? Could he really? Did he deserve to mourn, if just for a little while, before he was forced to reenter his reality and leave the village as planned by the Third Hokage, him, and the mysterious Uchiha shinobi that had aided him in exterminating his clan?

Though his mind wondered, his tears did not.

They simply ran downwards, pulled by gravity, pain, and sorrow.

He slowly buried his face on the lap of the girl with violet hair and timid eyes, and finally wept when she repeated, "Cry."

Had anybody told him that he would ever shed tears, or that she would sustain him, he would have brushed those claims instantly off.

Her, support him both physically and mentally? She was but a child.

Yes, a child...She was so small, so very fragile-looking, yet...so strong in soul.

"Cry," she said again. "Cry, cry, _cry_."

And so he did.

**O**

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A/N: _Moonlight on the Ruined Castle_ does not belong to me. It is a traditional Japanese children lullaby. I kinda thought it fit the setting (plus I think it's mournful and somber and I looove it).

It's been a while, eh? *sigh. Life happened and well, I hope to be back soon.

Thank you: **lookingforEmile, Juri. DP, clementine's hat, Chise, ChibiChikyn, ILoveHinata, Chiisai-chan97, Guest, Tamani, kandita, Sabie0521, pangpond, xHinaLovex, Kibachow, Yazie567, and aurora0914**. As for the question you all have: I have a knack for angsty, painful stories...but I love happy endings, no matter how complicated things have to become in order to obtain such endings. What seems impossible now may be possible later.

I'm glad to see you guys reviewing and sending me very needed feedback :) I can't wait for the next chapter, which shall be up next week. Nightmares will be up by either Tuesday or Thursday.

Next chapter: **Part 05: **_Forgive Me_

If you are curious enough to know, the next chapter deals with...well, if you want to know, P.M or state it in your review and I will promptly reply back. I don't want to write it here and spoil it for the rest who do not wish to know.

-6.21.15


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